It has come down to this. I’m finding myself obsessing about the most trivial thing possible. Not the rockets from Gaza, not Iran, not the raging fires, not even Corona, but the fungus on a tiny part of my fingernail. last month, when it first appeared, the health clinic said to send a photograph to the skin clinic. They diagnosed and prescribed something. Today I visited a private dermatologist with Ezi and incidentally showed him my finger – he prescribed a complex treatment. “Don’t know if it will help, but it will keep you busy.” So I took the prescription to the pharmacy. In a thick Palestinian accent, he said, “What health clinic are you in?” “It’s a private prescription.” “So what?” he answered, “Let’s let the clinic pay for it.” He brought out the big box. “Now, let’s look at the instructions.”

I am not sure if he thought I was a little bit stupid, or he was trying to screw the system, or he was just being nice.